-
I was born in Portland, Oregon. My dad was a high school biology teacher.
-
Exploring used to be adventure Now, I’ve just lost my way.
-
No crashing cymbal music or Chocolate minuet
-
Crispy tickle drifting down Smothering footstep sound
-
-
Surging through the cavities and caves of having served
Confusion forming shape within my frying pan of nerves
-
This joy that is inside me –
Where do I put it?
-
I am bent. I am old. But still I see.
My beside, purple depths and yellow majesties
-
The days, oh the days Pile catawampus-sneaky higher.
-
I seem to be addicted to the pain
The vice that implodes my spirit and impales me on your whim
-
Reveal of the space of time
Between hot and cold -
-
When he kissed her that morning and hugged her good-bye She didn't know that it would be the last time
-
Yellow leaves tiptoe across tattered shoreline. Liquid lace veils the gray lake from view.
-
The dragonflies are gone.
My old bent tree drips plums reluctantly and the feral cats
-
Watching my children go after their dreams
Sharing their highs & lows and in betweens
Their love & the times when they felt they had wing
-
Walking down around through the inside of me I look, but I don’t see things I don’t want to see
-
I think the face of freedom changes with age
There are so many kinds of freedom
-
It isn’t wind that breaths freedom into the soul
Nor flags, nor trumpets call, nor cannon’s blast.
-
I perused my address list of relatives and friends
Of who that would I turn to, who could I trust the best?
-
http://www.flickr.com/photos/niki-lynn/3318006284/
-
-
When I wake up in the morning
And I look into the mirror
-
Simple words of wisdom - Clear as tones of bells Any embellishment given - ‘Had cluttered up their tell.
-
Mountain beyond understanding
Fortress of treasure green
-
I wanted to walk into your heart the other day
to squeeze through a crack in your veneer
-
-
Yesterday, was a good day. I’ve left it behind.
It flew by, like a shadow, in the dead of night.
-
I’ve been thinking ancient thoughts tonight.
The hours, swindled from the moon-host’s brim
-
Wait for me. I don’t know where you’re going,
-
-
I prayed for you today – and yet it was not I
But He Who saw into my heart and heard my anguished cry
-
Powerful as they may be Don’t loose them on humanity
-
A lark had sung a robust song
And in between each note were found
-
A lark had sung a robust song
And in between each note were found
-
A lark had sung a robust song
And in between each note were found
|